


The Perfect Toy

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Castiel, Coming Untouched, Dom Dean Winchester, Facials, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Punishment, Spanking, Sub Castiel, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 05:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15478491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Ficlet written to the prompt: PWP+Kink(Hand Spanking) with Destiel (TopDom!Dean/BottomSub!Cas) - While Dean fucks Cas’ brains out he discovers that Cas LOVES getting spanked and ends up switching from fucking Cas to orgasm to instead spanking Cas to orgasm before he cums all over Cas’ blissed-out face





	The Perfect Toy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZarauthForsaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZarauthForsaken/gifts).



Dean’s thighs smack against Cas’ ass with every thrust. His toy has been so  _ good  _ today, and loves being used rough and left hard, and Dean is  _ thrilled _ to oblige. Cas’ hole feels fricken  _ perfect _ , hot and tight and wet with lube. Exhausted, Cas lies limp bent over the bed, legs spread to accommodate Dean, face pressed to the bedding, ass sticking up in invitation and welcome. 

“You were fuckin’  _ made  _ to hold my cock,” Dean groans.

Skin slaps on skin and Cas moans pitifully, beautifully, throaty and dry and hoarse.

Dean  _ loves _ that sound.

But actions have consequences.

“Silent! You get us caught, and…”

Pulling back, Dean backhands Cas’ lower back. 

Cas  _ sobs _ , bliss unmistakable. After all their time together, Dean knows  _ exactly _ what Cas sounds like when he’s close.

Wait. What?

Dean slaps his back again; Cas clenches around him, rim fluttering, and muffles another moan into the blanket.

“You like that?”

Cas doesn’t answer.

Dean smacks him again.

Cas nods frantic agreement.

“Alright, toy, I gotta a proposition for you,” Dean murmurs as he pulls his cock free and takes his condom off. “You’ve been  _ very  _ naughty, but how’s this for a different punishment? 20 strikes. Can you do that?”

Cas nods again.

“And if you show me how much you like it - how much you  _ know  _ you deserve every fuckin’ hit - I’ll reward you.”

* * *

Castiel has never wanted anything more. His ass aches from Dean’s rough use, his shoulders burn from where he’d been bound earlier, and he’s waited - he’s waited so long - for Dean to realize he wants to be spanked.

If Castiel was  _ really  _ good, he’d have just  _ asked _ .

But having Dean find out like this was so much better. Anticipation quivered through Castiel’s exhausted muscles, runs liquid hot through his insides. He’s acted out so many times, misbehaved so many times, courting this end, and finally,  _ finally _ \--

Castiel’s back goes involuntarily rigid as the first strike smacks, tingling, off his ass. Lube squeezes out of his ass as he clenches, tenses, his cock aching with the need for touch. The second smack is so hard the bed creaks, the third harder yet. Pain lances down Castiel’s legs, up his back, and his hips work back, inviting the next strike, begging for the next strike. Dean is so damn  _ strong _ , and relentless, and it feels  _ incredible _ . Crying in agony, in bliss, Castiel stuffs blanket in his mouth to resist begging. His sensations are muddled, the lines between pleasure and pain obliterated. He can’t count, can’t predict, can’t think, he can only  _ feel _ and it’s…

_ Smack! _

...it’s everything…

_ Smack! _

...it’s amazing…

_ Smack! _

...it’s bliss…

_ Smack! _

...it’s  _ exactly  _ what he deserves…

_ Smack! _

Pressure winds tight through his body, throbbing behind his eyes, pulsating through his head. Every strike pushes his cock against the blankets, teases him inadequately, and he can’t take more, can’t possibly take more, can’t  _ wait  _ to take everything Dean has and more.

“What a…”  _ Smack _ ! “ _...perfect _ …”  _ Smack _ ! “...fuck toy…”  _ Smack _ ! “...you are.”

_ Smack! _

Dean thinks he’s perfect.

With a broken sound he can’t repress, the pressure in Castiel bursts outward. Rapture overwhelms him and he comes.

The blows don’t stop.

Pleasure crests again and again and again and Dean might be speaking or might be giving orders or might be praising him or might be done and Castiel has no damn idea because the world is nothing but bliss.

“Open you’re fuckin’ eyes, toy, we’re not done yet.”

Right, Dean  _ is  _ giving orders.

Castiel opens his eyes. 

He’s on the floor.

When did that happen?

The ceiling fan whirs over head, disorienting to his blurred vision, and he’s grateful when Dean leans over him and blocks the view. Dean’s hand is on his cock, stroking vigorously, red cockhead aimed toward Castiel’s face.

Dean’s going to come on him.

This is a reward.

Castiel was good.

Delightful, simply joy washes through him. He opens his mouth wide.

_ Better to receive than to give...so much better… _

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, and groans.

Come splatters Castiel’s face, forces his eyes closed, leaves warm streaks over his cheeks, diffuses over his tongue.

“Perfect,” whispers Dean.

A replete sigh drains all tension, all worry from Castiel.

_ Absolutely perfect. _


End file.
